This little critter was captured during a camping trip at Samuel de Champlain Provincial Park in Ontario. There are two species of chipmunks in Ontario, this being the most common species and the least chipmunk being the other.
Photographing chipmunks is practically a camping tradition, so coming up with a different composition can be a challenge. I liked this one for how the foliage from the fern helped frame the chipmunk and put him in his natural environment.
It wasn’t something I planned, but somehow my travels have often included a relaxing stop at some small, obscure or hard to get to island.
Not sure why, perhaps the attraction is that you can’t walk or drive to these destinations. There are no crowds. Sometimes no cars. To me, an island escape has extra appeal as they offer isolation and (sometimes) a bit of mystery.
When you’re on an island, time tends to slow down, sunsets seem brighter, beers are colder and smiles more plentiful. In no real order, here are some of my most memorable islands. Don’t want to read? Then just skip to the image gallery at the end of the article!
Base yourself in Hanga Roa, the only real town on the island. From there you can venture to dozens of sites where the famous rock statues, called Moai, are found. There are crater lakes, caves and beaches to explore. I took the hiking trail from town up to the sacred site of Orongo and only crossed paths with two other people over the course of five hours.
The world’s fourth largest island stands out on this list as a destination that is much larger and, in some ways, better developed than the others. Yet, once you get off the main highway, you quickly get lost in the natural marvels of this island. Cities like Antanananrivo and Fianarantsoa have their allure, however it is the unique flora and fauna that make this island so special. Hiking to the top of a mountain range in Andringitra, lemur-spotting in Isalo, exploring the wild Tsingy and listening to the Ranomafana rainforest come alive at night were just a few of the highlights I enjoyed here – all without any crowds. Be sure to try the Zebu, tasty animals!
I was here during the events of 9/11 and didn’t hear about it until four days later. How’s that for isolation?
This is undoubtedly the most backpacker-friendly island on the list. Not far from Rio de Janeiro, Ilha Grande is a destination for both tourists from afar and cariocas from Rio. Essentially the entire island is a protected park. The main town of Abraão offers a beach strip lined with restaurants and cheap drink offers, while the rest of the island has a much quieter vibe.
Hiking trails to remote beaches, waterfalls and lookouts criss cross the island, allowing you to find a spot where you’ll be surrounded by monkeys and parrots instead of other travellers. Looking for dolphins in the distance at Lopes Mendes beach is a great way to spend a day.
For pure simplicity and beauty, this island takes the cake. With no more than a small shelter in a stand of trees and a few wooden lounges, you are almost forced to slow things down and just chill out for awhile. If you need to stretch your legs, you can walk around the entire island in about 20 minutes. The soft, bleached-white sandy beaches gradually give way to the beautiful turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean.
Strap on some fins and a snorkel to walk out into a underwater wonderland. Nothing to do except enjoy the view. Pure bliss.
A volcanic caldera near Antarctica? You bet. This island was one of the first places I ever saw penguins in the wild! Complete with old whaling ruins and volcanic heated water (perfect for a swim in Antarctica). If you ever do venture this far south, chances are you’ll stop at Deception Island. It is one of the most popular stops for Antarctic cruises, and lies in the South Shetland islands, just off the coast of Antarctica.
The best bonus? Fur Seals and Gentoo Penguins out number humans here and they’re all on standby waiting to welcome you to their shore.
Exploring the salt flats in Bolivia is one of those travel experiences that makes you wonder if you’ve ventured into another world. Flat, white salt for as far as you can see is only met by the piercing blue sky. Your depth perception plays tricks on you. Underneath the salty crust is a massive lake, and somewhere – out there – is Incahuasi.
Often called Fish Island, it’s near the edge of the Bolivian salt flats and spikes up out of the lake, sprouting cacti and even a museum. The perfect place to stop for a llama steak lunch and regain some perspective. This is also where most people venture out onto the salt flats to take some silly travel pictures.
In the middle of Lake Nicaragua, two volcanoes formed this island. Odd birds, fireflies and rough roads are what you can expect here. The attraction? Isolation of course! Plus the options to go horseback riding, hike to a waterfall, go swimming, kayaking or perhaps climb a volcano.
The islanders here are different than the rest of Nicaragua too. It’s like a country within a country and the rickety ferry ride from the mainland makes the journey even more memorable.
Depending on weather and road conditions, the 20+ km ride from the airport to the northern end of the island can take 1-2 hours. The concept of time is different here, mostly revolving around sunrise, sunset and the arrival of flights from other islands on Vanuatu. The main town on the island includes no big shops or grocery stores. People buy their fuel from random shacks around the island – not gas stations. Entertainment on the island is watching cars get stuck in mud or chewing on kava.
There are a couple of fancy resorts here, not far from the airport, but the real attraction of the island is Yasur Volcano – the world’s most accessible volcano. Accessible being a relative term, as it’s not the easiest island to get to. But once you’re here…the volcano is all yours. Small, family-run bungalows are the preferred accommodation closer to the volcano. Think thatched roof, coral floor, steps from the beach type of places.
The beauty of Isabela is that it is rarely visited on the popular boat and yacht cruises, partly because of how far it is from the islands of Santa Cruz and San Cristobal. While there is an airport, almost everyone takes a fast boat ferry to get here. With chances of spotting whales or dolphins along the way, it is a fun experience just getting here as long as you’re not prone to seasickness.
What makes Isabela stand out from all the other islands I visited in the Galapagos is that you have freedom to wander around on your own. Puerto Villamil seems almost deserted compared to Puerto Ayora. On Isabela you’re free to go swimming or snorkelling with marine iguanas, take a stroll along the beach, mingle and eat with locals, hike to the wall of tears or lovers beach, take a horse ride to Sierra Negro volcano – or just relax in a hammock.
You get a more in depth Galapagos experience when you wander around Isabela and see what day-to-day life is like for the people who live here. A great contrast to the standard cruise options.
It all began with a quiet scratching sound emanating from within the wall. Just beside my bed. Gradually the sound got louder, quicker. Then it was gone…
I’d been in Borneo for about a week, spending time exploring Mt. Kinabalu and most of the Sabah region.
It had mostly been a urban adventure up to now, cities and night markets and beaches and BBQ’s. But we had now arrived in a more wild part of Borneo.
The Kinabatangan River. This river is one of the last great wildlife refuges in Borneo where orangutans, pygmy elephants, rhinos, proboscis monkeys and an abundance of bird life still flourish.
It is also home to Geckozilla.
Now, I love Gecko’s. They’re usually a cool green colour, move kind of funny and remind me I’m in a tropical place – not at home. I admire the way they seem to glue themselves to walls and stealthily stalk flies and other prey, even smaller Gecko’s. Indeed, Gecko’s had a happy place in my travel heart – until I encountered Geckozilla.
Some memories are a bit fuzzy, perhaps subconsciously hidden in the deep, dark parts of my brain for my own sanity. But I’ll try to piece together the events leading up to when I was attacked by Geckozilla.
Day 1
Arrival at our jungle camp along the Kinabatangan River in Borneo. There are friendly land monitors and big birds hanging around. Our lodge is only accessible by boat, or a very lengthy hike through the jungle. A bit of paradise. The only place you might get a cell phone signal is right at the river’s edge.
I didn’t even try, I was there to enjoy nature.
All seems peaceful and relaxed. The lodge owner talks politics and likes that I’m from Canada. I drop off my bag in the simple rustic chalet, then head off for a longboat ride down the river in search of wildlife.
Monkeys, hornbills and more delight us all. We return back to the lodge for dinner and a much needed rest.
As I turn off the lights and lay my head down I hear a rustling inside the wall. Something wants to get out.
I turn over and ignore it, but it won’t go away.
Like the childhood boogeyman in the closet I take the ‘if you can’t see it, it doesn’t exist’ approach and put on some headphones. It works to drown out the noise, until the pauses between songs. Exhausted, I finally fall asleep.
Day 2 Early Morning
Waking early in hopes of more wildlife sightings I mention the thing living in the wall to my room mate. His non-reaction does little to calm my nerves. Seems he didn’t hear it.
Looking at the wall beside my bed I notice a rather large metal grate. About mattress height off the floor, and about a foot from where my head was lying at night. It seems out of place and serves no real function. Then it dawns on me that the grate is there for a singular purpose – to ensure the thing living in the wall, stays in the wall. Crap.
Heading off to breakfast I point the grate out to my room mate. He is slowly coming around and no longer thinks I am delusional about the thing living in the wall.
Day 2 Late Morning
Lots of birds and two wild orangutans were the highlight of the morning boat journey. Everyone is happy. We return from the boat ride and head to our cabins to prepare for a jungle walk to get closer to the critters of Borneo.
Back in the cabin there are no signs of foul play or animals lurking where they don’t belong. The wall is quiet.
Then something catches my eye as I go to leave the cabin. It’s in the shadows and scurries away. A Gecko, I think…but it seemed awfully large. Hmmm. No time to investigate, must head off on a jungle hike…
Day 2 Early Evening
Quiet time in the cabin to get cleaned up, do some reading and wait for dinner. We’d had an extra amazing afternoon. Reports of pygmy elephants down the river proved fruitful and we had seen some of the most amazing creatures in all of Borneo, plus more proboscis monkeys.
The creature in the wall and the large Gecko-like thing I saw were now the main topic of conversation in our cabin. Was it a Gecko? How big was it? How was it making so much noise when they’re usually so quiet? Both my room mate and I were a bit on edge now. Time for some beers and some food to take that edge off.
Day 2 Night
After celebrating a friend’s birthday late into the night, we’re happily fed and full of beer as we return to our cabin.
With the flick of the light switch, we immediately notice something different. There is a large object on the wall. There it goes -scurrying across the wall towards the bathroom!
We cautiously approach and see what must be the largest Gecko in the world. Both my room mate and I are spellbound by it’s size. It’s more brown than green, and blends in well with the wood cabin. But it is just a Gecko, and a huge sense of relief comes over us. Sure, probably it was just this big Gecko making those noises in the wall. Ha, funny…being afraid of a Gecko. We have a good chuckle.
Not long after, it’s time for sleep.
I find myself standing in the small bathroom, brushing my teeth. The Gecko of unbelievable size has scurried into the corner of the shower and is watching me intently. He chirps a couple of times from the relative darkness. How nice. Cute big Gecko.
Then it happens…he attacks!
Without provocation, without warning. As I’m brush my teeth, Geckozilla lunges from his perch high above my head and comes sailing down, head first, legs out, directly for me! I spot his attack from the corner of my eye and move slightly. He misses, but lands on my foot! I’ve been hit!
I let out a series of incoherent expletives and jump back out of the bathroom.
My room mate comes to investigate and I tell him I’ve been attacked by Geckozilla. It’s not a friendly Gecko after all, this is a blood-sucking man-eater of a Gecko. The lunge must’ve been at least 10 feet, a jump that surely would have injured a lesser Gecko.
Grabbing cameras, we both peer back into the bathroom, trying to locate the killer Gecko. Where is Geckozilla hiding?
He scampers from under the sink over the the shower and makes a run for the shower drain (half the size of the wall grate beside my bed). It’s closed. He can’t escape back to his lair inside the walls from there. He runs up the wall and towards the window, sneaking outside through a thin crack.
With the heart beat back to normal, I finish brushing my teeth.
Turning the bathroom light off we joke about Geckozilla and his brazen attempt on my life. Crazy how such an innocent looking creature could create so much noise in the wall. We’re just happy that he’s out of the cabin and we can get a good night’s sleep tonight.
I head to bed. Cabin light is turned off. Room mate and I say goodnight, thoughts moving on towards tomorrow.
A few seconds later there is a loud scratching a clawing at the grate beside my bed. But this time it goes on longer. It’s louder. Something is about to break through!
Then there is the sound of claws running up the other side of the wall, across the ceiling towards the end of our cabin, where the bathroom is. Finally, a loud metal crashing sound as the beast, the thing living in the wall, leapt from the roof of our cabin into the nearby jungle trees.
‘What the f@ck was that!?’ was all we said.
After venturing across the Salar de Uyuni ( Salt Flats), the equally stunning Siloli Desert of Bolivia awaits. Flamingoes tend to migrate to some of the salty lakes, including Laguna Honda, as pictured here.
Outside the Serengeti, we had to stop for some quick truck repairs. There was a Maasai Village nearby and these three colourful, smiling Maasai were enjoying a walk across the plains of Africa.
